Eliot Strange and the Prince of the Apocalypse

21) Back Home

I am riding back home like I am going to my funeral. Think, I tell myself. Think. Quit blubbering like a baby and think. I can't. I am weak. Not like my dad and not like Steven who would already have a plan to rescue me. Rule two - leave no man behind.

By the time I arrive home it is getting dark and because there is no power, it is going to be so dark soon that I will not be able to see around the house. The curtains are closed so the small penlight I cut on only helps a little. Mine and Steven's bags are on the kitchen counter, packed and ready to go. I see my birthday packages on the floor all ready to open in two days for my birthday celebration that I will be celebrating alone. I start to cry again and this time, since I am in my house where absolutely no one can see me, and it is the first night I have been alone since the end of the world, I let it all go. I sob like I have lost everything because I have. I cry like there is no hope because, at least for me, hope is all gone now.

I look down; I am covered in blood. Blood from a policeman who I only met once, but he was nice to me. He thought I was funny. He tried to warn me. He tried to help me, and I did nothing for him, just like I do for everyone else. I help nobody. I deserve this. I am selfish and when you are selfish, you are left all alone.

I start to scream because I can; no one is left to hear me. I want this blood off me, so I rip my clothes off and run naked to the shower. I get in the cold shower to wash the blood from my hands, my hair, my face. I am crying and screaming and shivering, and I do not hear him until I see the flashlight. I scream again louder than before. I am completely defenseless. I am naked, and my gun with three bullets is somewhere in the kitchen. He does not hesitate. He steps in the shower, and his hands are all over me.

I quit screaming and stop fighting and realize that I am going to get what I deserve. I feel calm. This must be what happens before you die - you accept it and it is all right. It is only then, when I have accepted my fate and calmed down that I realize that this man in the shower with me is examining me with the flashlight and his hands. He is searching my body and asking me, "Are you hurt? Are you hit?"

I come to my senses from the shock of being completely naked in front of a man for the first time ever. "What are you doing?"

"I saw the blood. Saw the bloody clothes. I heard you screaming. You didn't come back."

He says all this in his British accent. We both look down at the prince's hand on my left breast and then back at each other. There is a pause, and he says, "I was worried. I found your address in the school records. I came to make sure you are all right. "

I remove his hand from my breast. "Out," I demand as I try to cover up and point him out. I cut the cold water off. Because he is still looking at me and now smiling his sad smile, I add, "Hand me a towel, dammit."

"Yes ma'am," he says in that disarming accent.

"And quit talking to me in that damn accent too. Are you completely trying to get caught?"

"It is only us here, my lady." He continues the accent and asks, "Where is my friend Lindy?"

"Gone." I choke out.

That is all it takes. I start to cry again, and prince or not, naked or not, I can't stop. I drop to my knees, and I cannot get up. I sit there and cry until I feel a blanket drop over my shoulders, and then the prince is picking me up and carrying me. I am so exhausted, I let him. I am whimpering now, and he is saying in that damn English accent, "Shhh, it is ok, it is ok."

It is most decidedly not ok. I hate this vain man who thinks being a prince makes him irresistible, but I am so tired that I let him take care of me. He dresses me in a nightshirt and even puts socks on my feet and tucks me in on one side. He leaves for a few minutes and comes back in a pair of sweatpants that must be Steven's but are too small. He gets in on the other side and pulls me close and whispers again that it is ok. It is all right.

I start to cry again. I am mad because he is wearing Steven's sweats, even though I know he was as wet as I was and probably cold.

"I hate you," I say.

"I know," he says.

"Don't try anything."

"Never," he says.

"Quit talking in that damn British accent, Jack."

"Never," he says.

"I hate you, Prince Charming."

"I know."

"I need a Kleenex," I say.

"Yes, my lady."

"Quit calling me your lady."

"Never," he says and I can tell he is smiling even though I cannot see him. He gets up to go get me a Kleenex.

"And a drink of water," I say.

"Yes, my lady."

"I really do hate you. I really do."

"Yes, I believe you do," he says as he turns back to look at me from the doorway. The flashlight shows me that he is smiling, just like I thought.

He must have trouble finding the Kleenex because by the time he gets back, I am asleep.